


Credence

by imoldgreg



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), The Lobster (2015)
Genre: Adorable Newt Scamander, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bottom Original Percival Graves, Credence is a literal goddess of fertility in human form, Dubious Consent, Everyone is in love with Percival Graves, Graves Is David From The Lobster, Irish Percival Graves, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Top Credence Barebone, because of grindelwald, everyone assumes Credence is a girl at first but nah he’s still a dude, kind of slow burn, who is not a nice character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-10 18:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12917475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imoldgreg/pseuds/imoldgreg
Summary: After being called upon to help with a strictly confidential military case involving an island that has lain undiscovered for thousands of years, Professor Percival Graves finds something too beautiful to be human.Those who have kept this creature hidden hide a corrupt secret, but little does Percival know so does the side he’s working for.





	1. Chapter 1

Percival hadn’t been contacted by the US military for about two years before that day. They had made it perfectly clear that there would be little chance of it happening again. 

As a professor of ancient history he naturally wasn’t the army’s first choice when it came to those they could bring upon to help. So when he had been startled awake in the middle of the night by an intimidating looking colonel at his door and the deafening slap of helicopter rotors beating through the air it had been more than a surprise.

The wind whipped up by the blades had been phenomenal, and it was thick with the heavy scent of the petrol engine, roaring and chugging louder than Percival would’ve expected. His hair had been blown right out of his face, and the stacks of papers weighing down his kitchen table had been scattered wildly all over.

“Are you Professor Percival Graves?” the colonel had asked, his voice almost a shout over the machine behind him. 

Percival worried for his potted plants, sure to be knocked over and killed. They had been freshly planted only a few days ago, and he had intended for them to survive this time, with every single other try at horticulture he had attempted ending in failure.

Percival blinked as he fought to keep his dressing gown shut against the artificial gale.

“Yes.”

“You work at Yale?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see some I.D.?”

“Um, yes.”

It had taken a while to actually find his passport, driver’s license and work badge, but eventually the colonel had been convinced, though Percival was more than sure he knew perfectly well who he was already.

“We’re leaving in ten,” came the shout of the man at the door, who turned round to signal something to the unseen pilot of the helicopter.

“I can be ready in twenty,” Percival tried to keep the nervous shake out of his words and the pitch level, but he knew his hands were shaking, so he tucked them under his elbows.

“We’re leaving in ten Professor. Be quick,” the stern voice resounded through him like a tremor, before the colonel returned to the helicopter to wait. He had a very masculine, thick southern accent, and it was hard to discern certain words, especially over the noise. Percival's own soft Irish lilt in comparison seemed gentle, almost girlish. He wondered if that would become a problem in the future.

Surprisingly he was able to gather up several changes of clothes and wash things and an array of notebooks in just under ten minutes, and hurriedly had to change into trousers and a nice jumper his brother had bought him last year for his 36th birthday. Percival was a little hurt to find it was tighter than the last time he had worn it.

He didn’t have time to collect his contact lenses case and its solution, so he settled with his glasses. They were thick and fogged up easily, but they had a good metal frame around them.

Percival pulled on a coat and carried his bag outside with him after locking up. He was just glad his dog was at his mother’s house right now, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to feed him, or arrange for accommodation for however long he would be gone for. Last time it had been a week. He hoped he’d packed enough socks to last.

There were three others in the helicopter, and the colonel helped him up to his seat and took his bag. The helicopter lifted off steadily as the doors were shut firmly and Percival took up his headset.

He had trouble strapping himself in, his hands fumbling a little too much, but after what seemed like an eternity he heard the assured click. 

His cheeks had flushed and his glasses had steamed up slightly, so he took them off and carefully wiped them with his handkerchief. He was very glad he had remembered it. 

“Professor Graves, this is Professor Newton Scamander of Cambridge University. He’s the leading zoologist, the best of the best. You see any plants or animals you don’t know what they are, you go straight to him,” the colonel gestured towards a man about five years younger than himself, with a warm smile and a constellation of freckles over his face and neck. His hair was curly and a rich Chestnut colour, and he held out his hand for Percival to shake with a friendly grin.

Percival smiled politely back as he shook. Newton's hand was very warm.

“Looking forward to working with you, and please call me Newt. Newton is what my mother calls me,” Professor Scamander, Newt, commented in a rich English accent, one which was deeper than Percival had been expecting, but upon hearing it he decided it suited him perfectly. When he laughed his eyes twinkled slightly. Another thing Percival decided in that moment was that he liked Newt very much.

“And this is Dr Seraphina Piquery of Harvard University. She’s got a PhD in ancient languages and linguistics. She’s one of the best translators in the world. She’s helping us communicate with the people there and get a better understanding across, not to mention helping us a great deal in terms of establishing deals and trades. These people are stubborn, but luckily so are we,” the colonel smiled at them all confidently, nodding his head at a very regal looking woman sat next to Newt. She had smooth dark skin and silky blonde hair tied up in a top knot.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Seraphina smiled Percival in a tired but friendly way, and she shook his hand too. He didn’t blame her for being tired, as he had to try and stifle a yawn himself.

As the colonel began to introduce Percival to the two other professors, saying how he was the 'best of the best' and the 'leading ancient historian in the country' , he couldn’t help but feel as though he was being overplayed. Percival was not like these two. They were well dressed and handsomely presented, in good shape and clearly in their prime. 

They were going to live up to everyone’s expectations and more. He, on the other hand, was certainly not.

He pulled each side of his coat over his belly a little more, and pushed his glasses further up his nose. His fringe was soft and flopping over his forehead. He should’ve made some attempt to trim it before he left, but his next hair cut was due in two weeks. Percival hoped he would be back by then. His hairdresser was a very nice woman.

They were then briefed on where they were going and what was happening. Seraphina had been involved since the very beginning so she didn’t need to listen, and she started to write something in a notebook.

“I’m gonna keep this simple,” the colonel began, leaning forward as much as he could in the straps and widening his legs. 

Percival instinctively closed his. 

“The island we’ve located has never been discovered before, never been explored by anyone other than us, and it looks as though they haven’t moved forward in the ways of technology as the rest of the world has. To put things in perspective, we’re really talking like ancient civilization. It’s not too big, smaller than England, and most is mountainous landscape or jungles. There’s one main city, then smaller villages in different areas. The main source of fuel is underneath the temple, stretching out a little way towards the mountains. That’s why we’re here.”

Percival and Newt listened closely, and he saw Newt's eyebrows knit together. He had to admit it did sound unfair and unnaturally cold hearted to destroy an unexplored landscape and upset the people there just for fuel.

“The only problem is the temple is directly connected to the Emperor's Palace, and it’s what the people believe is home to a real life goddess in human form. It’s very strictly guarded, and we think only a few select people including the Emperor himself can enter,” the colonel continued, sitting back up and breathing out heavily. It seemed that this particular task was causing a lot of stress for him.

Percival wondered if this supposed goddess knew what was to happen to her home. He shifted a little as Newt began to argue the ethics and morality of the mission, and found himself struggling to hold back a yawn. It must’ve been about one in the morning.

He glanced out the window without thinking, and immediately fixed his gaze to his knees, his hands gripping the sides of his coat tightly, edging towards the centre of his seat as much as he could.

Oh.

Percival didn’t like heights.

He felt winded and as though he was going to vomit at the same time. All thoughts of sleep vanished from his mind. 

They were very high up. Percival didn’t know exactly how high. All of a sudden his ears felt very hot. They were probably red.

He tried to fix his focus on the strange soft lump in his right pocket. Not actually knowing what it was, he reached down and pulled it out of the confines of his coat. 

A bright red soft toy in the shape of a lobster stared back at him, it’s towel-like fur well worn and its tail chewed until it had unraveled and left only thick threads of material hanging down. The squeaker its belly still worked, and everyone shot their gazes up at the unexpected loud squeal emitted by the mangled creature.

Percival took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes with the back of his wrist. They felt hot and wet, and he sniffed a little too loud. 

This lobster was his dog's. His dog was called David. He had taken him for a walk earlier this morning and had been so busy with marking papers he had forgotten to take it back out of his coat for him. David wouldn’t be able to sleep without it. It pained him to think about how his dog would be crying, pacing and scratching at the cupboards of his mother’s kitchen. He hoped very much that he wouldn’t hold it against him, and made an inward promise to buy David a new tennis ball before he picked him up.

Newt caught his eye, and offered a kind smile and a shrug. Percival wondered if Newt was better at looking after plants than he was, and if that shrug was meant to seem as understanding or just to be kind.

“That your kid’s or something?” the professor across from him asked into the microphone of the headset, struggling to keep eye contact but the warm smile and friendly tone remained. Newt's knees were pressed together and he kept rubbing his thumb into his wrist in an anxious motion. It seemed he wasn’t too good with communicating with others either.

“My dog's,” Percival pushed his glasses back up his nose as he spoke, retaining eye contact even when Newt continuously dropped it. Despite his own lack of social skills he could keep eye contact very well with people. “He’s called David.”

Newt watched him for a long time after the conversation had ended with his amused grin at David’s name. He had said it was funny to hear a dog with a human's name. Percival had never thought of it like that. He smiled to himself as he put the lobster toy back into his pocket, and decided that David was really more of a person than a dog. He considered saying it to Newt to add to the conversation, and make him laugh again. 

Normally he wasn’t too good at that, but it seemed tonight was unusual.

Percival liked Newt's laugh.

“There are several other professors, scientists and doctors already on the island at camp, along with our marines and a few top executives of Hallows Mining LTD. They’ll be the ones who’ll be doing the excavation and transportation of the fuel back to the US. They’d given us a month to get permission and evacuation of the people in the area, but we’ve managed to gain three. You understand? We’ve got three months to deal with the Emperor of this island peacefully, otherwise we’ll have to take the fuel by force,” the colonel explained to Newt and Percival, who both nodded, as Piquery flicked through her notes knowingly. “Not forgetting trying to establish some kinda trade route between the US and them, trynna teach them English, and such. Though that’s secondary mission.”

“He’s more of a person than a dog,” came the blurted response to the colonel, the voice breaking halfway through. Percival realised it was himself, and felt his neck burn. “Sorry.”

The others watched him confusedly, until Newt's brows lifted in understanding and his face broke into a wide grin. 

“I think that about my pets too, Percy. Especially my bearded dragon Pickett.”

—- 

The helicopter journey to the island took a long time, and halfway through they had to put on blindfolds to prevent them from seeing the direct flight onto the island. The colonel had said it was for security reasons, but Percival thought it pointless, considering anything within a hundred miles radius of the island was obscured in thick disorienting fog.

Percival found his hands shaking as the blindfold wrapped round his head, blacking out his vision, and tried to breath steadily.

He wasn’t a huge fan of the dark, even that which was manufactured from a cloth.

When they finally landed he took it off quickly, and rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the new morning light, and put his glasses back on. Percival felt sick from the flight, and as soon as they were unstrapped and let off the craft he vomited. Newt rubbed his back and said something comforting.

When his head had stopped spinning from the travel and height they had been at, he stood up straight again, and drank some water that had been offered to him in a bottle by the kind man next to him.

“Thank you,” Percival mumbled, his face a little flushed as he took his bag from the colonel.

Newt took his suitcase before making sure Percival was ok, and then began to walk with him to the camp, a little way behind the other two. He tried to keep to the same quick pace as Newt, but his trousers were too tight. He realised that in his previous hurry to get dressed when the colonel was at his door, he must’ve pulled on the wrong pair.

All thoughts of too-tight apparel dissipated when he laid eyes upon the camp. He felt his palms begin to sweat.

The military had made base on a flat plain of grass, which ended abruptly into a dense forest, with the tallest, thickest trees Percival had ever come across. Each trunk must’ve been the width of a car or two, possibly even a truck.

There were large tent structures pitched up, and one long portable plastic container, complete with a door and two windows, big enough to hold about twenty people . Helicopters were landing and taking off, some transporting large amounts of dirt hanging from the landing gear. All were heavily armored with large firearms attached. There was a shooting range close by, with a handful of marines firing at the wooden targets. Army officials and soldiers were everywhere, some walking, some stood in groups, but all talking in a very secretive manner.

The noise was almost unbearable. 

Gunfire continuously cut through the eardrum, swiftly followed by the heavy sullen 'thunk' of bullet embedding itself in thick wood. The roar and slap of the helicopters made Percival feel sick, and there were shouts from the men communicating with one another. 

Somewhere within the forest there was the tearing sound of trees being cut down, and the angry thrum of building machinery. 

The smell of burning and petrol was thick.

“I think there’s already been some excavation going on, a bit of the fuel they found in the forest, but I think it’s awful. They’re mindlessly destroying a beautiful natural landscape that hasn’t been touched for possibly thousands of years, all because they used up everything everywhere else. It’s disgusting,” Newt whispered quietly in his ear as they walked, his freckled face holding a troubled expression.

“Yes, it is,” Percival answered, and quickly realising he sounded to short, added, “but maybe if the Emperor refuses to let them take the fuel they’ll go back home.”

“No, no, didn’t you hear the colonel in the helicopter? If they don’t get permission they have the power to take it by force. That means double the destruction they’ll cause,” Newt frowned and looked down at his boots, clearly worth much more than his own yet they appeared twice as scuffed and worn.

“I don’t see why they need us,” Percival huffed softly, slinging his bag further up his shoulder and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

They entered a tent filled with computers and people working on them. There was a soft, underlying buzz from the monitors, and the heat was stifling. Luckily they carried on through this tent and out to another, one with sleeping quarters, each makeshift bedroom separated by a canvas sheet.

“Professor Scamander, this one is yours, and the adjoining one is yours Professor Graves. The showers are just down the corridor to the east, just there, don’t worry you won’t be sharing with the marines. Toilets are to the north. You can’t miss them. I’ll leave you to get settled in, but in an hour be ready. We have a meeting scheduled with the Emperor, and you, Graves, and Piquery have a special job,” the colonel explained as he helped everyone sort their bags into their appropriate 'rooms'. “These others are the Professors and Researchers you’ll be working with.”

There were several other people reading or chatting, and they looked up when they came in.

“What’s the special job?” Seraphina asked, looking at Percival and then to the colonel questioningly.

“We’ve been made aware that this meeting isn’t any normal one, where you’d be expected to translate what’s being said for us. This time the Emperor wants their ‘goddess' to witness the exchange, and apparently she wishes for us to communicate with her, though we don’t know anything else. She supposedly can speak any language so we’ll see. We’re not sure if this will help us with the deal or negatively impact our progress in anyway, but it’s better than the stand still we’ve been at for the past few weeks,” the colonel raised an eyebrow as he spoke, sighing softly. “The Emperor has asked us to choose two people to meet the goddess, and you two pulled the short straws.”

“Well change is better than nothing,” Piquery shrugged, smiling encouragingly towards Percival who tried to mirror her, but he was sure his smile turned out more like an anxious grimace. However she didn’t falter, and then casually continued talking to the colonel, so maybe to her it had seemed acceptable.

Percival went to sit down on his bed. It was narrow, and had a fold out metal frame. He would probably fall off in his sleep, if he could actually get to sleep without David faithfully cuddled up at his feet.

But this time his mind didn’t stay on his dog for long, and Percival started to think about this supposed goddess he was going to meet. He should probably look presentable, after all he didn’t want to offend. Percival wondered if she’d be beautiful, and what kind of goddess she was of. 

Goddess of war perhaps? 

It would be no surprise that these people would want something with such intensity and power beside them while dealing with the insistent push of the military to destroy their land.

\---

The hour had dragged on, unbelievably so, as Percival had gotten changed into a better fitting pair of trousers and a nice white shirt with a smart looking jacket on underneath his coat. The climate here wasn’t too dissimilar to the US, though he thought it a little chilly. He had also been introduced to the other professors, doctors and Researchers that had been brought in.

From what he could remember, there were four.

There was Mr Jacob Kowalski, one of the best meteorologists in the country. He was rather plush looking, almost like a teddy bear, with a less neat and tidy appearance such as Newt and Seraphina. Percival liked that there was someone else similar to him. Mr Kowalski was indeed a very nice man, and he liked to tell jokes. Jacob was here to make sure there were no extremes of weather and to monitor the forecast, which would change the risk of each mission to leave camp.

Next there was Dr Queenie Goldstein. She had a PhD in psychology, and she had said that she was here to keep the morale of the marines lifted, and to make sure the overall emotional well-being of everyone on site was ok.

Along with her came Professors Tina Goldstein and Langdon Shaw. They were both experts in English and foreign literature, which just so happened to include ancient texts too.

They had sat around talking mindlessly, with Percival listening instead of speaking and Newt sitting close next to him scribbling in a notebook, when the colonel had entered the room and told them it was time to go. He had been followed by a tall, slender looking man in similar attire to the colonel. 

Percival had been unable to prevent himself from staring at the newcomer.

His hair was completely white, including his eyebrows and eyelashes, even his facial hair, and he seemed to have heterochromatic eyes; with one being a piercing blue, and the other almost as dark as Percival’s. The man's gaze met his and held it with such raw intensity he had to look away, and instead found himself looking down at his shoes, which were very well shined, and adjusting his coat over his belly a little without realising. 

Despite his submissive drop of eye contact, Percival could still feel that burning gaze searing through his skin, and he knew his neck was bright red.

“This is Sergeant Grindelwald. Because I have to stay and monitor mining going on in the forest I cannot attend the missions leaving camp, so he leads every meeting with the Emperor. He’ll take charge of your group whenever you’re there, and take his word as law. Essentially he says jump, you say how high, it’s simple,” the colonel spoke quickly and breezily as they all made their way to where a large armored military truck was waiting. The engine purred and growled in readiness.

Everyone took their seats, and Percival made sure he stuck close to Newt. 

Grindelwald sat on the other side of him, and Percival was sure the man didn’t need to press against him as much as he did, however he didn’t try to make conversation, or even look at him for that matter, so Percival settled for quiet contemplation while the sergeant began to brief the others about the meeting.

“I’ve overheard a few others talking about the goddess y'know, apparently she’s the most beautiful creature anyone has ever laid eyes upon. She’s supposed to be the goddess of beauty, fertility and good luck in human form, which is why they keep her so guarded, and no one else has ever laid eyes upon her other than a few highly trusted individuals and the Emperor himself,” Newt spoke softly as he read from his notebook to Percival, who listened closely and nodded when he felt was necessary. 

His stomach felt like a thousand butterflies were trying to burst out and his glasses were already fogged up a little. He hoped he would make a good impression.

The drive didn’t take too long, though it was very rough natural terrain, so they had to stop several times to allow Percival to be sick behind a tree nearby, after which Newt would always be ready with some fresh water for him. He really wasn’t good with any form of travel other than walking, and under the scrutinizing eye of Grindelwald there was an unshifting sense of pitifulness hanging over him. He wondered if they would get fed soon, as anything that was previously settled in his stomach had been forcibly removed.

Newt seemed to sense this, and dug around in his rucksack until he found a granola bar, which Percival tried to eat slowly as to not seem like some kind of starved animal, which he clearly was not. 

He even let them swap seats so that Percival was closest to the window, which had been opened a little to allow fresh air in.

“Thank you,” he croaked hoarsely as he took another gulp of water, and rubbed his eyes. They were watering after his body's violent protests to the truck.

Newt gave him a comforting smile and his arm a friendly squeeze, but Percival couldn’t help but notice that Grindelwald's unnerving gaze was fixed predatorially on him again, despite no longer sitting next to him.

The city itself was magnificent when they finally reached it. The architecture was heavily reminiscent of the Romans, yet the grander, more important looking buildings seemed to have an ancient Eastern influence, with the detailed depictions of battles and mythical beasts painted upon them, and the shrines scattered about the city. There were many species of trees and plants growing within the city, some of which had gone extinct thousands or possibly millions of years ago.

The people of the city bustled about their daily business, markets selling wondrous colourful fruits and vegetables, intricate pottery and fine silk clothing.

Mules pulled carts of people or goods, and armored warriors kept watch upon the streets atop elegant black horses with shiny coats, ever vigilant guards.

The people seemed rather fearful and kept back a good distance as the truck drove steadily by through the streets, until it reached a less crowded section which found itself at the bottom of a long flight of stairs, leading to the most unbelievably beautiful architectural design Percival had ever seen.

“This is the Emperor’s Palace. It’ll do you all well to keep quiet until we enter the conference hall,” Grindelwald smirked as he exited the Truck, everyone else following and obediently keeping quiet, as they began to ascend the stairs. Percival shivered visibly at the man's voice. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and this feeling only worsened when his cutting smirk was thrown his way, along with a cocked brow.

Guards dressed like something out of legend watched them carefully, monitoring each step as they silently surrounded the group and brought them inside, dissolving to stand against the walls as the immense wooden door shut behind them.

The inside of the palace was like nothing Percival could have ever dreamed of. Like anyone could have ever dreamed of. He supposed that perhaps even the greatest artist and architect in the world could not form a design that would do this palace justice, let alone even come close to comparing.

It was like a haven of light, with everything carved and detailed and a huge tall ceiling, holding many statues and metal creatures, some made of solid gold and others made from an iridescent shimmering glass, cut with the finest precision. Silk rugs and tapestries decorated the floor and the walls, and there was an intoxicating smell of burning incense somewhere. A crystal stream ran through the palace, and it caught the many shafts of light and glittered beautifully, cascading rainbows over the walls. A large Sakura tree grew in the centre, and strings of precious stones hung from the branches. A solid gold throne, designed so it almost looked as though a dragon was coiled around it, sat a few feet away from the tree, and there sat the Emperor, dressed in pure silk, and a twisted metal circlet upon his head.

Grindelwald began to address him, and although Percival had enough sense to bow, he found himself completely deaf to their words, his eyes transfixed on the figure at the Emperor’s feet. 

He knew at once that this was the goddess, clothed in even finer silks than the Emperor with beautiful gilded symbols embroidered upon it, clearly holding some powerful spiritual meaning. A large talisman hung from its neck, with a dark red stone blazing in the centre.

The body may have been delicate and graceful, but the face was certainly not female. It had a firm jawline, broad and sharp, and fine cheekbones, with long dark locks falling past the shoulder, gently curling with an entwined diadem sitting neatly atop. The doe eyes were pools of liquid gold, framed by dark thick lashes, and the lips were that of something wicked; fat and swollen and pink, with the perfect curve of a Cupid’s bow.

This… creature, Percival almost forgot it was human it was so intensely beguiling and mesmerizing, was indeed male.

The idea of a female goddess taking the human form of a male body was unusual, however Percival did vaguely recall something similar occurring a few thousand years ago in Ancient Greece, where they believed a goddess had taken a male form on earth to take revenge upon a traitorous soldier, as males were often seen as stronger, and more powerful. Perhaps these people believed the same thing had happened to them.

He then suddenly became aware of the Emperor addressing the group, with Seraphina translating his words.

“I do not wish for us to discuss these matters in the conference room today. Instead, we must go to the temple, where our goddess Credence can perform a blessing upon you. However this can only be done to those who hold the most power over your group,” she spoke fluently and easily, and when Percival caught the name of the goddess he sucked in a breath.

Credence. It was perfect. He was perfect. 

Even as he sat at the Emperor’s feet, hardly a place for one they considered holy, contentedly threading tiny flowers together with nimble fingers to create a loose band, which he then started to entwined around the Emperor’s ankle. Credence kept his head down and rubbed his cheek against the leader's knee, almost like an affectionate cat would. 

Something about it all made Percival's gut twist, and he was worried he might be sick again.

“That would be me,” Grindelwald stepped forward a little, and cast his gaze over the others. “Graves, Piquery, the colonel ordered that you be with me at all times, and that you be the closest to the goddess when the opportunity arises.”

The feeling in his stomach didn’t subside. If anything it got worse. Percival could feel himself sweating as his ears grew hot. 

Something about the way the Emperor had so willingly offered them, total outsiders, access to the ‘forbidden’ temple which was supposedly so well protected and guarded from even its own people, seemed very very wrong. The way both Grindelwald and previously the colonel had mentioned that he and Piquery were supposed to keep close to Credence. 

Why? 

There were no answers, but everything seemed to have a façade, a false layer hiding what the real purpose of this mission was.

Two piercing golden eyes caught his. Credence’s whole being was intently focused upon him, even as he pressed closer to the Emperor’s legs with a hand carding through his hair. 

Something akin to pure dread dropped itself in Percival’s stomach, and he felt his blood go cold. 

There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind. Credence was a goddess, a transcendent creature in human form. But there was an underlying sense that something very sinister was at play, and Percival was going to find out what.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy :))

It was about two in the morning, an orchestra of unknown crickets and frogs played an intricate symphony of loud thrumming beats despite the seemingly wintery breeze. The sky was clear, the air was chilling yet sweet, and besides the few guards which patrolled the base's perimeter, Percival was the only one awake.

Since uncovering the seemingly unlimited supply of snacks in the small fridges available near the sleeping quarters a few hours ago he’d been unable to return to his bed. He knew how he must look. He knew the sorry sight of a man without an ounce of self control and a compulsion to eat, sitting on the floor with red watery eyes and a dog toy in his hand. He’d become a living cliché, a sad joke based off the worst aspects of reality. If anyone found him now he’d most certainly be sent back home, a disgrace to even look at.

Self pity and a loathsome form of narcissism hung over him like a cloud.

He wasn’t sure if what he had could be considered a disorder, but he knew it was self destruction at its very lowest. It was illogical and degrading, yet it had been his comfort since he was about ten.

Percival wasn’t stupid. He knew each time the compulsion came back was due to some kind of trigger. Sometimes it was stress at work. This time it was not due to that.

He had never felt what other people knew as 'desire'. He’d never felt the need to release, or any kind of deep lust for another person’s body against his own. 

Percival had the ability to feel love at its very core, this huge indescribable feeling of want and hope and attraction in every sense for another, but never in the fleshy sense had it ever afflicted him.

Of course he had had sex before, but because the other had wanted it, and he had wanted to make them happy. Love was about sharing, about giving yourself to the other fully. Although Percival himself did not need their nakedness to prove this, if they needed it he was more than happy to reassure them.

The base pleasure of it all was nice. It felt out of body, intense and relaxing, as if a tightly wound coil had been released. But when the feeling slipped away it was gone. He’d never felt the need to rekindle it like others had.

What he’d seen at the temple had stirred something within him. Part of it was pity, and another made him want to throw up, but another part was something primal. Seeing what had occurred, there had been a snap within him. It felt like embers, ready to grow and burst forth into a roaring fire. For now it remained nameless.

Credence had kept the strange persona of a well trained dog as they were led into the temple, the Emperor following close behind. Seraphina had been denied entry due to a sudden error in translation. She looked like a lioness, proud but dangerously offended, as she allowed herself to be led back to the group.  
Percival had stuck close to Grindelwald. 

He could still smell the spicy scent of his cologne even now. It burnt the inside of his nose, and he considered the possibility of it literally singeing from just a smell.

The man had avoided watching him like he had done previously. In fact he hardly spared him a glance. Percival wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a negative one.

Once inside there had been candles and incense lit, along with small bunches of herbs. There were only two others already in the temple; women with white silk robes and masks obscuring their faces.

“To purify the air,” one of them had stated, in perfect English.

The Temple was a simpler building to the Palace, less grand and with little décor. Instead it held thick scarlet beams which wound around each other as if they were made of string. The interior walls were made of thinner red beams, which entwined with each other in ornate unbelievable patterns and designs. The floor was a reflective marble, and beautiful flourishing plants and flowers grew in with the fixtures. Twisted trunks of blossom trees seemed to meld with the walls, or sprout up from the ground without consequence. Expertly made throws and tapestries depicting great godly events, scenes of nature and shimmering star charts hung over the walls and over the backs of the little furniture that could be found. No outside noise found its way inside.

It was as if tranquility itself had been personified into the form of the Temple.  
The blessing had consisted of the burning herbs being drifted around their heads, leaving thin lines of smoke that wrapped around them in a thick woody scent. 

Percival had almost choked, his eyes red and watery as he rubbed them with the backs of his hands. They were moved onto their knees in front of some kind of alter, with so many shards of glass hanging from it it seemed to literally drip light as if it were water.

Then there had been wreaths of perfectly woven reeds and small water flowers laid around their necks, and Credence himself had rubbed a finely ground red powder over their foreheads. His thumb had felt soft and skilled as it swept over his brow. Chanting from some distant voice echoed through the building, and at some point Percival’s eyelids had dropped closed.

He hoped it seemed respectful.

Percival had never once believed in any god, or in some kind of divine intelligence, but at that moment he had felt so close to everything around him. 

The ground had seemed so close, but so did the trees far away and the mountains even further. He was worried if he straightened his back too far he’d hit his head on the moon, or perhaps an even more distant planet.

The wind from deep within the forests seemed to blow over his skin, and he could even hear the chirruping of the birds from high up in the trees. At one point Percival could’ve sworn he felt the featherlight brush of snowflakes falling over his lashes, carried all the way from the highest peak of the mountains.

He heard spirits whisper in the back of his mind, he could physically sense the ancestors of those who had once lived dancing all around him.

He felt Credence’s slim fingers swipe more of the powder over his lips and down his throat in lazy twists and thick stripes. The herbal smoke seemed to grow so dense and heady Percival wondered if this is what it felt like to drown.

A gentle rustle and some dried leaves were pressed over his jaw and brought up to his mouth, which he took the gentle push to mean he was to eat them. They were a little damp, and Percival was suddenly aware of how much he was sweating. He knew his neck and ears would’ve been bright red.

Then he had reopened his eyes. The two masked women had left, and somewhere in the distance he could hear people talking. His head felt as if it were about to drift off like a balloon, and his teeth seemed to buzz in his mouth. Percival could feel his hands shaking again.

Sounds and images seemed to be hazy, and slow to form together so he could work out what was happening. He could vaguely sense Grindelwald getting up off his knees, and walking just a little way away, to where some kind of bed with intricate sheets and beautifully designed pillows and throws stood.

Percival moved to stand as well, but a thick hand gripped the back of his neck in an almost crushing grip, and forced him to stay down. He wasn’t sure if it was an unknown guard or the Emperor himself but he had gone completely limp.

There were strange, out of place sounds that drifted towards him from where Grindelwald had moved to. It almost sounded like two different animals, one angry and grunting, the other mewling and bleating. A harder, more cutting sound, with the rhythm of a quickly beating heart made itself present. It sounded like someone clapping with wet hands.

The hand on the back of his neck squeezed unbearably and dug its nails into his flesh as the sounds grew louder. Percival felt his senses lazily seeping back into clarity.

Shapes and sounds were no longer hazy and disjointed, though colours were now much more vibrant and saturated than what they had been. He wasn’t sure if he was seeing everything as how it truly was, or if perhaps he wasn’t seeing things at all.

The strange animal noises continued, getting louder as lucidity was restored, and when his eyes fixed on the bed everything suddenly made sense.

The bleats and pitiful mewls were that of Credence, now beautifully made up in gold and black and bold red paint. He lay under Grindelwald, his long slender legs wrapped tightly round his waist as the man rolled and thrusted into the delicate body beneath.

Although Percival could see his toes visibly curling and hear the wails and moans which made his face burn, those beautiful doe eyes were wet and shining. With his new bright, clear vision, he saw something before he had not. Credence was sad. He wanted more for the life he had not been allowed to live. Percival had felt his heart physically ache.

Percival should’ve helped. He knew he should’ve. He should have pushed the hand which had scruffed him away and gone to pull the poor boy away from the unnerving Grindelwald.

But there had been a voice in his ear, the owner of the hand gripping his neck, who had turned out to indeed be the Emperor. He spoke clear, fluent English, a complete contrast to the man that had made Seraphina translate every word for him back in the Palace.

“You feel that? You feel his tight wet heat gripping round your cock with each thrust? He was born for this, and count yourself lucky, very very few people are able to go between those thighs,” the Emperor’s honey slick voice wrapped itself around every limb, as his small dark eyes were fixed firmly upon Grindelwald’s rutting form.

Percival felt sick. It reminded him of when he was a boy and he used to visit his grandparent's farm. He had once witnessed a bull repeatedly try to mount a cow without much success, but on the fifth try he had succeeded. The erratic, noisy commotion that followed was uncomfortably similar to the scene in front of him. It gave him the same anxious feeling in his stomach as well; a sense he was witnessing something that he really should not.

“I know you want the fuel, but think, if you were to destroy our land and finish your job within barely a few weeks, how would have access to Credence again?” the Emperor continued, his grip on Percival’s neck tightening.

Grindelwald seemed to physically keen at his words, and his thrusts grew wild, more desperate.

“I’d find a way,” he snarled through clenched teeth. Credence’s moans had dropped to a low mewl as he watched Grindelwald and the Emperor carefully, seemingly able to control the amount of noise he was producing easily. Percival wondered if it was for show.

He also wondered what he himself was doing here, as clearly the Emperor was not addressing him, and he had no obvious part to play in this twisted display of… power? On who’s part?

There were several more words growled and breathed out by the sergeant, most of which consisted of the words 'tight' , 'fuck' and 'perfect'. Credence seemed to bask in the praise, but when Percival caught the Emperor giving a certain nod to the boy, he reached down quickly and gripped the base of Grindelwald's cock tightly, earning him an angered huff as he clenched his fists into the sheets.

The Emperor abandoned his hold on Percival’s neck and swept over to Grindelwald, gripping his hair and tugging his head back viciously.

“Delay the process enough to prevent it and we’ll stick to our deal,” he spat, and wound his fingers through Credence’s long wavy hair and pulled tight. The fretful sound that left his red lips was inhuman and stomach curdling, like hearing a puppy’s sharp yelp of pain.

Credence had let go of Grindelwald’s cock, and Percival saw it visibly pulse as the man drove it into the poor boy as far as it would go with an animalist roar.

After that Percival didn’t remember much. He had felt too sickened and disoriented by the whole ordeal.

So now he sat, eating his way through an entire fridge moving onto freezer, a blanket wrapped round his knees. His stomach let out an odd rumbling sound, and he dug his spoon back into the pot of half melted ice cream. He wasn’t even sure who had brought this kind of food here.

David’s lobster lay a comforting weight on his right thigh, it’s shining black eyes watching him steadily. He wondered how his beloved puppy was doing. He hoped the new collar he had bought him a few weeks ago didn’t pinch at his neck or rub his fur. He’d spent a long time choosing it, and he hoped David appreciated the thought.

Percival shuddered a little from an invisibly sourced draft. Nights on the island were proving to be a lot colder than during the days.

He was dressed in a grey hoodie, something he did not wear unless trapped in one of his fits of terrible self loathing that more often than not struck at night. Inside it was soft and a little oversized, easing the round swell of his belly and the general thickness of his form.

“Percy?” a soft British voice made itself known shortly before the even softer figure of Newt emerged from the sleeping quarters, wearing a cosy looking sweatshirt that hung off his lithe body, his Chestnut curls ruffled sweetly from sleep. 

“Percy are you alright?”

Percival had never felt such humiliation as he had then. Never before had he actually been discovered in the middle of one of his downward spirals of self pity, and by someone as naturally handsome and endearing as Newt.

He shook his head in reply, defeated, and began to tidy himself up, though his hands shook.

But Newt was kind. He didn’t mind when Percival unwillingly started to cry, and instead sat with him. Their hands found each other’s. His tears stopped rather quickly after that.

He felt the other man's skin shuddering like an animal trying to be rid of a fly, and his flesh was alive with goosebumps. Percival wrapped his blanket over Newt’s legs, tucking it under his thighs.  
Instead of asking any questions or having Percival explain his awkwardly embarrassing situation, they just sat, holding each other close for warmth, their fingers entwined. Newt stopped shivering with cold after a while, and Percival's stomach stopped feeling as if he’d just been punched in the gut. Slowly the consistent nag of his previous inability to help Credence ebbed away into a sleepy numbness.

They spoke quietly about nothing and everything at the same time; commenting on the weather, their families back home, any little anecdotes they had picked up. Newt mostly spoke and Percival listened, happy with the comfortable dynamic.

It suddenly didn’t seem as though they were huddled on a makeshift kitchen floor in a sturdy tent pitched up by the US military, surrounded by the shame of Percival’s nightly exploit. Newt helped him clean things up properly, and even shared a little of the ice cream himself, before hiding it away at the back of the freezer to ensure secrecy.

Everything was very quiet for a long time. Even the soft buzz of the nocturnal insects seemed to dim.

Then Newt kissed him. His lips were soft against Percival’s, and his chin scratched a little with unseen stubble. It was sweet and gentle, and his hands roamed no further than Percival's own, the grip tightening a little.

When Newt pulled away Percival realised he had forgotten to close his eyes during the kiss. He knew that’s what you were supposed to do, so he leaned in and kissed him again. This time he made sure he closed his eyes, and Newt cradled his face gently between his hands. Percival kept his fingers pressing lightly against the other’s shoulders. He kept his eyes closed.

As their lips parted, slower than before, Percival felt a kiss being placed to his forehead. His brain seemed to have slowed down to a snail’s pace. No thoughts or emotions could enter his head, try as he did to will them to the front of his subconscious.

“Come with me, you can’t stay here all night,” Newt whispered gently, and took his hand as they stood up together, and Percival reopened his eyes.

Newt smiled at him in the warmest of ways, and Percival even managed to return it without it feeling forced. 

Together they tiptoed their way back to the beds as silently as they could, but during the moment that their leave of each other should have occurred in order for them to disappear into their own cloth dormitory, Newt had continued on without a word, and instead joined him in his own bed.

Percival was more than grateful as they both silently shed themselves of their clothing, sliding into the narrow cot with nothing but underwear on. Their combined body heat curled up under the blankets rendered the cold night air obsolete.

Nothing carnal had taken place. It wasn’t even considered. Percival may never had experienced desire himself, but he knew when it was wanted and when it was not. And tonight it was not wanted by either party, and neither would it be wanted in the future.

Newt had held Percival close, his slim chest pressed up against Percival’s back, their skin a stark contrast to each other; Percival’s tanned and clear, Newt’s pale, almost translucent, with a spattering of freckles covering every inch of his body.

Percival liked being held this way. It had been long time since he had shared a bed with another person, and it hit him just how much he had missed raw human contact, even in the friendly sense.

They stayed like that all night, and fell asleep with Newt’s body cradling protectively around his own. As Percival felt himself easing into unconsciousness, his mind suddenly seemed to take in the kiss.

People kissed for a number of different reasons. It could be a familial action, like a mother kissing her son’s cheek. It could be between lovers, a small but gentle action to display affection when words wouldn’t suffice. It could also be derived from pure passion and desire, a fleeting glimpse of what the other was to get if the law of attraction was in their favour.

Percival wasn’t sure why Newt had kissed him. He did indeed like Newt, and had grown very fond of him in the short time they had known each other. But he didn’t think of him as any of the previous options. Maybe there was a fourth option, a kiss shared between friends during a time of vulnerability.

\---

The following day had been a lot warmer than the previous. The sun shone a reddish glow through the light mask of feathered clouds, and the wind had completely died down. It was almost humid.

Their small group of researchers and professors had been taken again to the Palace, but Grindelwald did not accompany them. Instead the colonel took charge, and the others spoke more freely in his presence.

Tina Goldstein spoke of the diversity and modern-age thinking this ancient culture seemed to have. The others agreed, and Newt even started up an energetic looking conversation regarding the type of plants and wildlife thriving here, and about the possibility of reintroducing a previously thought to be extinct species back into our world.

Percival had been given some kind of anti-sickness pill before the truck had set off, and he found himself to be alright if he kept his gaze out the window. 

Subsequently the drive was a lot quicker than it had been before.

There had been only the colonel, Seraphina and Newt allowed inside even just the Palace on this occasion. The others had settled doing whatever it is they should do outside, whether it be waiting, talking, possibly taking plant samples, and Percival took a walk round the back of the Palace, and headed East.

Tina took a note of his absence, and called after him that he should be back within about twenty minutes, and mustn’t stray far. Percival decided he liked Tina, despite the lack of conversation between the two of them.

Since last night before the period of unthinking numbness had taken hold over his thoughts, he had been unable to rid himself of the dreadful guilt that he should’ve helped Credence. He also found himself to be dangerously curious about the whole situation. If Credence was a goddess and highly regarded in this society, surely the Emperor would not be using his body in such a degrading way for personal and economic gain? Even if he was, it seemed strange that he would let an outsider such as Grindelwald join in. It made little sense, but Percival had seen the deep sorrow in Credence’s eyes.

Something wasn’t right, on either the Emperor’s or his own side.

His thoughts were interrupted however when his walk through a thin patch of woodland ended, and he found himself faced with bright red intricately woven beams, barely an inch across each, mimicking the same interior as the Temple.

Through the gaps in the strange hybrid of a fence and a wall, Percival could make out a lush garden, and beyond that the back of the Temple could be made out through the blossoms that obscured it.

He remembered vaguely someone mentioning there being a sacred place for only the goddess to wander, and that it was the richest, most magnificent garden anyone could imagine. This unknown haven certainly seemed like it fit the description.

Percival wasn’t sure if Credence was in there, but he felt such a deep need to find out if he was truly ok, to question the meaning of what had taken place during the blessing between him and Grindelwald and the Emperor. So he did the stupidest thing he could think of doing.

Percival wasn’t usually one for stupid things. He was a man who thought out every last detail; every consequence or reprimand possible. Although that probably only meant the stupid decisions that he did make were unbearably thought out, and therefore dull.

With difficulty he actually managed to climb the wall, as it had no gate. He landed roughly on the other side due to his weight, staggering slightly before clutching onto a nearby tree for support. 

It wasn’t graceful, nor was it heroic or knightly in any sense.

The red sunlight seemed to dim greatly behind a sudden surge of thick black clouds, and a light pattering of rain began to fall. Most of the garden was protected by this gentle downpour, due to the surprising thickness of the leaves, and the vast expanse they covered. The air remained humid.

Credence, completely different to how Percival had first seen him, stood a few feet away. His eyes were wide and confused as they watched him warily, and a simple grey pot with a tall spout lay clutched in his hands. His long, soft hair had been gently brushed back into a loose plait with tiny flowers woven into the locks. His face was clear and fresh looking, completely washed free of makeup. The grand spectacle that had previously been his silken robes had been replaced with simple blue and white ones, the blue being a soft cotton, whereas the white remaining silk. No jewellery weighed him down.

For once Credence actually looked real, tangible.

Suddenly the façade of Credence being some kind of androgynous beauty had vanished. He was handsome, with a strong jaw, even if he did remain delicate and feminine. He was barely 20, though his looks remained otherworldly, more so without the paint that had made him look almost deerlike rather than human. Percival seemed to realise for the first time that he was indeed a young man.

“You.. climbed over?” Credence spoke slowly, as if he was trying to process it in his own head. He frowned a little as he watched Percival, confusion clear on his face.

“Yes,” Percival answered stupidly. His habit of blunt speaking and numbed emotions when faced with someone he felt attraction towards hit him like a wave. 

He stood awkwardly, wishing he’d brought a jacket to cover how his shirt practically strained against the swell of his stomach, and how it clung to his back due to his sweat.

“You know this place is forbidden to anyone but me don’t you?” His voice was deeper than Percival expected.

“Yes.”

A pause.

“You were at the Temple yesterday,” Credence spoke softly, but smiled as his frown disappeared, deciding to ignore his confusion as recognition blossomed over his delicate features.

“Um, yes.”

There was a silence, only broken by the steadily growing slap of the rain against the trees. The two of them still remained bone dry under the canopy of leaves.

Credence set down the clay vase on to the wooden path that wound through the whole garden, but didn’t move closer. He visibly sighed and folded his arms.

“If you’ve come to try and negotiate any of this fuel business, you should be talking to the Emperor. I have no say in the matter.”

Percival frowned at Credence’s words. Surely as someone so highly regarded in the society he should have the biggest opinion on the whole ordeal, especially seeing as though the fuel was indeed located right under the Temple.

“I’m not here to talk about that,” he answered, quieter than he expected. 

When Credence looked up at him suddenly, fear clear on his features, Percival hastily continued. “I just.. I wanted to know what happened yesterday. Why it happened. I know I should’ve helped and I’m deeply sorry I didn’t, I just… feel like something going on here, something everyone’s hiding.”

Credence watched him while he spoke, then moved close until they were barely a few inches apart. He leaned against the tree Percival had previously used to counter his stumble, and traced his slim fingers up the swirls of the bark. He smiled, almost lazily, and looked up at him through his lashes.

Percival felt himself flush, and he coughed as his belly twisted itself into a knot. He became suddenly aware of Credence’s bare shoulder, the fabric loose enough to easily slide down his arm. The muscle under the creamy skin was defined and tight, and there was a clear sign of dark hair smattering over his chest and arms. Credence laughed handsomely at Percival’s blush.

“What’s your name?”

“Um, Percival,” he said, trying not to look or sound as foolish as he felt. He wasn’t sure if it was working.

“None of your people look like you Percival,” Credence raised an eyebrow as he watched him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was not said to be unkind, merely inquisitive, but Percival knew he was referring to his weight. Sensing his unease, Credence added, “Not that it’s a bad thing. I like how you look a lot.”

“I suppose they don’t,” was all Percival could say in response. He inwardly cursed himself for his inability to communicate fluently.

Credence wasn’t deterred however, and he kept the pretty smile on his plump lips, his golden eyes searching Percival’s. He really was beguiling.

“What happened in the Temple was part of the deal the Emperor has with your people. Your officials want to set up trade, so we introduce them to a part of our society, me. They decide they quite like that part, and the Emperor doesn’t want them drilling for fuel, so he makes a deal that if they can prevent what’s going to happen they can have access to that part whenever they like. I don’t know how he intends the do that though, because when you leave you won’t be able to just casually make a trip back for one thing,” came the very soft spoken words of the goddess in front of him. Percival had almost forgotten what they were responding to.

“So the Emperor’s using you to get us to leave,” he spoke slow and took his glasses off halfway through, rubbing them with the edge of his shirt as he’d forgotten his handkerchief. They weren’t smeared or fogged up, but habit spurred him on. “I can’t believe he would treat you like that.”

Credence shrugged and raised an eyebrow, his feline sharp gaze following Percival’s every move as he returned his glasses to his eyes.

“You don’t speak like the others either.”

“I guess it’s because I’m originally from Ireland,” he answered politely, his ears burning red hot as Credence hooked his fingers with his own.

Credence asked him what Ireland was like, what the world outside the island was like. They stood and spoke until the rain finished, and then they sat down by the tree, talking like old school friends reunited. Percival told him all about electricity and tower blocks and factories and cars, and it dawned on him how little nature he had described, but Credence seemed utterly enamored by it all. He asked Percival about himself, if he had a family, and instead Percival could only talk about David, though Credence didn’t mind. He seemed delighted by the idea of someone keeping an animal as a companion.

It seemed an unrealistic blur, to be speaking with someone such as Credence in such a personal, easy way. Percival’s speech started to flow easily, and their bodies pressed closer, their hands interlocked. It reminded him of the previous night with Newt. Only this time, Percival’s heart felt as if it throbbed solely for Credence’s handsome smile or his slim but large hand to enclose over his own. 

He knew he was avoiding eye contact more frequently than usual, and his face remained dusted with red. 

When he heard Tina calling for him to come back, Credence looked positively distraught.

“Promise you’ll come back again. Tomorrow ?” his needy, begging voice wrapped round Percival’s brain and made it hard to concentrate. He nodded stupidly, like a toddler.

“Promise,” he answered gruffly, though Credence didn’t seem convinced. His whole frame seemed to be slowly deflating as he let go of Percival’s hand.

To make sure Credence was assured of his return, Percival dug into his pocket. The ridiculous lobster toy had followed him along, so he entrusted it to Credence, telling him to 'keep it safe'.

With good reason the boy held it warily, confusion warping his features. But Tina called again, and Percival very clumsily climbed back over the wall. It wasn’t his most attractive moment.

He wasn’t too sure whether to say goodbye to Credence or not. They had barely just met. Percival decided it would be rude not to, but when he looked through the gaps in the ornate fence he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated!! :)


End file.
